


Reason Number Seventeen Why Geno Shouldn't Answer His Phone After Midnight

by cmk418



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Gen, Jealousy, KHL
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-01
Updated: 2012-11-01
Packaged: 2017-11-17 12:22:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/551538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cmk418/pseuds/cmk418
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Geno really shouldn't answer his phone this late.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reason Number Seventeen Why Geno Shouldn't Answer His Phone After Midnight

**Author's Note:**

> Just a silly little fic inspired by [this post](http://hardtothenet.livejournal.com/5323.html?thread=892363#t892363) by psharp10

The phone rings, waking Geno. He opens one eye, squints at the name on the display, and groans. There are several reasons he should never answer the phone after midnight and most of them are Russian. Pressing the phone to his ear, he says, “What is it this time? Not Datsyuk again, I hope. I told you last time, Vova just admires him, nothing more. He’s not going after older men.”

“No, he’s going after younger.”

“Younger than him? Is that advisable?”

“What? No.”

“Then for the love of the motherland, what are you talking about?”

“You haven’t seen the picture of him and Igor? It’s everywhere.”

Geno hadn’t seen the picture in question, but he knew Ilya and the best thing to do in a situation like these was to let the older man wind himself down so eventually he’d see reason. “They are teammates. Many pictures taken together. Me and Sid…”

“They’re holding hands.”

“So? They are Russian. If affection was not so foreign to you, maybe you’d be holding hands as well. Besides, it’s not as if they were sleeping together.”

Geno moves the phone rapidly away from his ear as Ilya bellows, “THAT’S EXACTLY WHAT THEY WERE DOING!”

“Shh… Ilya. Too early to be shouting.”

He hears Ilya take a deep breath. “Tell me, Zheyna. Am I past my prime?”

“No.”

“Because I’m almost thirty. That’s close to the end of the line for a hockey player.”

“I would like to see you make that statement to your goaltender.”

“Sergei?”

“Brodeur. He would probably hit you for saying that.”

“Maybe I should be having this conversation with him.”

“He would not answer.”

“What should I do?”

“Relax. Get rest. Maybe next week, he’ll be in love with 29-year-old man, maybe next week, he’ll be sleeping on you, causing new problems. You need rest to keep your stamina up if you want to go with young boy.”

“Why do I call you?”

“Because I am good to talk to. Good night, Ilya.”

“Sleep well, Zheyna.”

Geno hangs up and then punches a number on his speed dial. He hears Sid’s voice, laden with sleep, on the other end and smiles. “Ovechkin again?” Sid asks.

“No. Ilya.”

“Oh yeah. He must have seen the picture.”


End file.
